Shots of Jupiter
by Litastic
Summary: Short stories revolving around my favourite space loving ghost boy and other characters. Check out the first chapter for descriptions and ratings for each tale. Up next: There's a demon on the loose, and she's got her sights set on a couple of very interesting creatures.
1. Table of Contents

_"Tell me, did you fall from a shooting star  
One without a permanent scar  
And did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there"_

...

Welcome all to a new addition in my small library of Danny Phantom fanfiction. Here you will find a collection of sorts inspired by what music decides to play on shuffle and various Danny Phantom characters that peak my interest on that day. Now with prompt inspired shots as well!

It's also a place of procrastination from my already existing story, but enough about that. On with the show!

* * *

 **CONTENTS**

1\. Basin Street Blues: Musings on a genderbent Vlad Masters. (K+, mystery)

2\. Song of the Youth: How do you deal with a baby with ghost powers? Sam and Tucker find out soon enough and the results aren't always as hilarious as they make it out to be. (T, adventure/friendship)

3\. Competition: A short drabble on a prompt given by Moni and Luna. (K+, humour)

4\. How Sweet It Is: Vlad doesn't play to win, he plays to watch his opponents lose. (T, Angst/Drama)

5\. Some Things Never Change: Prompt: "An au where once a year on their death-day, ghosts re-experience their death and Danny, in typical fashion, experiences his at the worst moment possible." (T, Family/Drama)

6\. Technical Difficulties: Prompt: _"This is a very important message..."_ (K+, Suspense)

7\. Purple Haze: Short drabble about colours and its effects on a certain ghost boy. (K, friendship/humour)

8\. Sleep: Even heroes deserve a bit of rest. (K, friendship/comfort)

9\. Rebirth: It's about time for a rebirth of power. (M, Angst/horror)

10\. Trick or No-Treat: Silly drabble for Halloween. (K, Humour)

11\. Catch Me If You Can: Emotions are hard to catch and even more annoying to keep. So, why not chase them away instead? (K, Family)

12\. Strictly Business: Nothing personal. (T, Suspense/Mystery)

13\. Looking for Answers:If you didn't know it didn't matter, right? [A practice in dialogue.] (K+, Suspense/Angst)

14\. Rosethorn: There's a demon on the loose, and she's got her sights set on a couple of very interesting creatures. (T, Mystery)

15\. Stitches _:_ [Another practice in dialogue.] (T, Hurt/Comfort/Friendship)

16\. _Untitled:_ There's a new girl in town and she's dead set on getting to know a certain boy. (T, Suspense)

17\. Fatality: It's inevitable. (T, Angst)

18\. Assigned Seating: Danny needs some homework help. (K, Humour)


	2. Basin Street Blues

A short insight to an up and coming businesswoman and her rise to the riches. Inspired by talks of a genderbent Vlad Masters. All my gratitude to Haiju and Luna for helping me edit. Song is as the title says, Basin Street Blues sung by Ella Fitzgerald.

* * *

 _ **Basin Street Blues**_

...

Smooth jazz wafts through the room from an old record player. The soundwaves travel seamlessly through the atmosphere. Despite the muffled static noise, it glosses over the thunderstorm outside like warm honey.

 _Won't you come along with me…To the Mississippi…_

The music drifts along the massive hallways, slowly but surely making its way to the main event, curious to be entertained by the crowd than to entertain.

Glasses clink on tables, lively but controlled chattering fills the grand living room. Lavish furniture aligns perfectly in every angle of the spacious meeting point adorned with cushions and pillows made from fabric displaying the owner's constant travels. Rich colours of carpet and wood complement each other like a well-tailored suit. The ceiling stretches for what seems a lifetime; it's surprising that the mansion isn't deemed a skyscraper.

Here, a gathering of the elite upper class men and women permeate the atmosphere with a sense of superiority and esteem. Talks of big businesses, expensive buys, money flowing grossly out of sharply pressed pockets are seen as simple small talk.

Amidst the crowd of three-piece Italian suits, jewelry whose costs could feed an entire nation, and silk gowns, a lady clad in a sharp dress suit struts across the room with a stout glass of swirling amber liquid in each delicate hand.

A man catches her eye. Those eyes seem to sparkle like the crystals in the chandelier that floats above them and she smiles deviously. He nonchalantly brushes off the portly man he was addressing not moments before to accept the drink and rests a large hand on the small of her back. He takes a generous sip as he cradles her close to his sturdy figure.

Such a sight would be considered rare if you knew the man. He would never let a woman within five feet from him just weeks ago. The man had made it clear many times that he would never marry. Yet here he is, holding onto a woman he has fallen in love with. As if she was the biggest client he ever received.

They say if you find the right woman, things change; that you would cross oceans and mountains to have them in your life. A saying that this man (if you had known him weeks ago) would never have even considered to be true.

Then again, people change. (Another phrase he would never have believed.)

Such is the case for Wisconsin's most successful and richest entrepreneur, Robert Cald, and his fiancée, Elizabeth Masters.

She has insisted on keeping her name. A sign of independence and perhaps ownership of oneself which seems to have proven to the public that such a strong man like Cald would change his ways for an equally strong-willed woman.

Which brings us back to tonight. The seemingly casual affair (as casual as the rich can be) is a celebration of the ever prolific Robert Cald gaining his enigma of a wife.

Elizabeth favours all things simple and concise, and so, such an effortless gathering easily meets her requirements to tie the knot.

Sophisticated golf claps and small cheers of congratulations fill the air when Cald plants a hefty kiss on the ruby red lips of Elizabeth Masters while lifting his half glass of scotch in the air.

The festivities end shortly after the display. Guests graciously bid farewells, leaving final wishes and gift baskets.

Gifts had never amused her. They seemed impractical, and she had specifically forbidden them in the invitations. Of course, there were always a few guests who insisted on showing their well wishes by way of useless chocolates and bottles of wine of which they already had a full cellar.

Elizabeth accepts them reluctantly and forces a 'thank you' through gritted teeth.

As the final guests trickle out of the oak double doors, scurrying towards their limousines and Lamborghinis to keep the rain from ruining their million-dollar attire, the silky smooth tune of _Basin Street Blues_ lilts toward the couple's ears.

 _Basin Street is the street…where the elite always meet…_

The woman wraps her thin arms around her husband's neck, taking in the sight of his brown locks and sharp jawline. His eyes crinkle as he smiles down at her wicked blue eyes and tantalizingly soft lips. He pulls her towards him, closing the gap that lay between their two bodies.

 _In New Orleans the land of the dreams…_

He reaches down to plant a kiss on her forehead, her nose, the corner of her lip. She lets him tease her, as his lips trail towards her neck. Her skin is cold to the touch, yet he feels a burning sensation flow throughout his body.

His hands explore the muscles on her back as he finally gives in and kisses her full on the lips.

He sees her eyes flicker red.

His lips never meet hers.

 _You'll never know how nice it seems…Or what it really means…_


	3. Song of the Youth

A little idea I had after listening to Stockhausen's Gesang der Jünglinge. It's a bit bizarre but it gave me the idea of age manipulation so I thought I'd explore that. Also, baby Danny with ghost powers. How much fun would Sam and Tucker have with that, right?

* * *

 ** _Song of the Youth_**

...

His body refuses every signal his brain sends throughout his nervous system. Everything shuts down; he was merely an inanimate being floating amidst blobs of colour amalgamating into a rainbow wreck. He isn't sure if what he's seeing is real or simply a pigment of his imagination. _Heh, pigment._ A soft chuckle fills the air but it sounds foreign, like watching a video of yourself except in reverse.

He doesn't ponder the idea any longer. Strange how his thoughts seem to come and go without his volition. More blurs of colour, which seem to have an aversion towards coercion, invade his vision.

There's a softness in the air around him. A tune creeps towards his ears like waves upon a shore, coming and going. It's a nice melody that reminds him of the days when his mom would sing him to sleep after fretful nightmares. He wishes for it to stay put.

The assortment of hues languidly bumps into each other and intertwine, forming a sort of hourglass shape. Two thin strands emerge from either side of the figure and reaches towards him.

He never knows if he had shut his eyes.

…

'Ugh…Come on! I know Danny's known for being perpetually late but don't you think this is a bit ridiculous?' The thick sole of a combat boot taps irritatingly against the hot cement as Sam Manson flicks her gaze towards the door for the millionth time in the past half hour.

She doesn't wait for a reply and is already up the steps. A deflated sigh escapes her companion's mouth as she knocks on the door.

Tucker shoves his prized pieces of technology into one of his many pockets and follows suit, 'Maybe he slept in again? I mean he hasn't been answering his–'

'Sam! Tucker!'

The two teens jump from the booming voice of Jack Fenton as his bulky form takes up the entire entrance.

'What are you kids doin' here? Oh wait lemme guess…you wanna hear about the new Fenton Flipperoni, hey? Oh boy! You kids are gonna love this!'

Whatever retorts begging to escape Sam and Tucker's mouths are instantly evaporated as Jack Fenton's humongous hands pick them up like toys.

Jack kicks the door shut and in two big strides (what would have been ten average human steps) he's in front of the basement still towing a teen in each arm. All the while babbling on about his new gadget.

The Fenton Flipperoni, as he so mentioned no less than a thousand times, essentially absorbs whatever ghosts throw their way, reciprocates it, and fires back. And thus the name was born. On top of that, Jack was having pepperoni pizza at the time of its creation. Hence, the added suffix.

Before he gets the chance to bound down the steps, the equally excited shouts of Maddie Fenton reach his ears.

'Jack, honey! Who was that at the door?'

The giant of a man turns so quickly, a couple disgruntled yelps are forced out of the kids. Tucker's face is a sickly shade of green from all the movement, meanwhile Sam has her arms crossed dangling off her shoulders. A permanent scowl paints her pale face. It's a surprise they haven't had their heads crushed against a wall.

'Mads! Look who's here to check out the new Fenton Flipperoni!'

Maddie pauses halfway down the staircase to stare at the display before her. Her husband genially puts on that big goofy smile of his, blissfully unaware that he was carrying their son's two best friends like puppies. She isn't surprised. With a roll of her eyes, she makes her way towards the kitchen.

'Jack, put the kids down. I'm sure they're here to see Danny.' The pout looks ridiculous on Jack's face and he reluctantly releases the two teens, 'His door's still shut but you kids go on ahead and wake him up! He's been cooped up there all last night too…'

At this, Sam and Tucker glance warily each other. The mutter a quick thanks to Mrs. Fenton and sprint up the steps, leaving behind the older Fentons to gabber about their new inventions and cookie recipes.

The door marked with stickers of stars and rockets and the word Danny hastily cut from poster board glares at them ominously. As if it knows what's happening and yet it still dares you to intrude.

Sam raps on the door a couple times while calling his name. No reply. She tries again and on the third knock Tucker reaches a hand towards her wrist and shushes her with a finger.

'Do you hear that?' He whispers harshly and she listens once more.

At first she hears nothing. She rests an ear against the door and her eyebrows jump off her face when she hears it. Someone's crying…but it sounds like a…

Tucker and Sam burst through the door. Danny's room is as messy as ever. It's like playing the ground is lava. Except, instead of lava, it's dirty laundry and forgotten assignments. They make their way towards the noise and find a little bump hidden under the covers of his bed.

Danny is nowhere in sight.

His parents hadn't seen him all of last night.

And now, there's something in his bed.

Sam equips herself with the Fenton wrist ray while Tucker pulls out the lipstick tube camouflaged as an ecto-weapon. He reaches towards the covers. The teens nod simultaneously and Tucker tears the sheets off the bed. They charge up their weapons and aim at…at…a…baby?

'Oh my gosh…Is that…'

'I think so…but how? And why is he in his ghost form?'

'I don't know but we've got to figure out who did this and change him back.'

'How are we gonna do that? We don't even know any ghosts who can make someone turn into a baby? Oh man, oh man, this is like Tetslaff's assignment all over again.'

The conversation bounces back and forth like a game of ping pong as the teens wrap the infant in his black and white jumpsuit pooling around his chubby little limbs. Sam picks him up gingerly rocking him in her arms. Danny's cries slow to little hiccups and Sam fights every urge to tickle his little button nose.

'You know, he's kind of a cute ghost baby.'

'Shut up.' Sam glares at Tucker and he snickers, 'C'mon, let's go figure this out and–' Something awful fills the air, causing them to wrinkle their noses. They stare at Danny's innocent neon eyes in disgust.

'And diapers. Lots of diapers. Last one to the door deals with it!' Tucker is already leaping down the stairs before Sam can even smack him upside the head.

'I hate this. I hate this so much.'

…

After quickly escaping FentonWorks (which wasn't too hard since the older Fentons were already cooped up in the basement lab tinkering with who knows what), Sam and Tucker make a quick stop at a local store to pick up supplies.

They dutifully ignore the skeptical looks from strangers wondering what on earth two sixteen year olds are doing with a baby and a handful of diapers. (Plus a chocolate bar or twenty for Tucker's protesting stomach.)

Sam tosses a fifty on the counter to face yet another disapproving glare. 'We're just babysitting.' She spits out. Grabbing her change and Tucker's sleeve, they leave the store in a huff.

During their trip, they were caught in a heated discussion on who to ask for help. The teens clearly did not know enough about taking care of a one-year-old that wasn't a sack of flour.

Sam's parents were completely out of the question, knowing they would jump to ridiculous conclusions without the need for proof of any sort. Jazz was out of town visiting colleges and Vlad wasn't even considered as a nominee.

Which leaves them with Angela Foley.

Mrs. Foley never really questions her son and his friend's adventures but she knows that in a ghost-infested town, such as Amity Park, kids are bound to be curious. Though she worries for her child's safety, she does her best to help whenever she can.

Needless to say, she wasn't all too shocked when Sam and Tucker arrive at her doorstep claiming they found a baby ghost and simply insisted on taking care of him. God knows what these kids are really up to these days.

Angela knew enough about ghosts to understand that not all of them are evil. Her son had always been a Danny Phantom supporter and she saw no fault in the teenage ghost hero's attempt to keep their streets clear of ghostly activity. Plus, what harm could an infant do?

Correction: What harm could a _ghost_ infant do?

So, here she is with a glowing little child, all fed and dressed in Tucker's old hand-me-downs, sleeping soundly in her arms. Her hair is frozen stiff from the little ghost's disobedience to stay put when she changed him. Tucker's beret has a giant hole revealing the crown of his head all thanks to a sudden ghostly baby wail. And Sam is wringing out her hair by the sink from a previous encounter with little Danny's breakfast.

They hover around the kitchen in peaceful silence, save for Tucker's frantic fingers travelling across his laptop keyboard.

'So, kids,' Sam and Tucker perk up at Angela's voice, 'When are you going to return this…baby to his parents? I mean, they must be worried sick and I am not having another ghostly encounter under my roof.'

The two teens freeze and eye one another. Taking one last bite of his chocolate bar, Tucker crumples the candy wrapper and tosses it in the trash, missing terribly. 'Well, that's the thing mom…We don't really um, _know_ who his parents are.'

Angela's eyebrows furrow with concern and a tinge of anger. 'Tucker. You know we can't keep a ghost here forever. Let alone a baby.' The little bundle in her arms wriggles around. She slowly rocks him hoping to calm him down. 'Maybe the Fentons will have something to help you with this? Speaking of, where is Danny? Weren't you two supposed to be at his place today?'

Sam walks up beside Angela, rubbing a towel through her hair. Her eyes widen, noticing the fact that the baby's clothes seem to have grown another size. Or perhaps that he had shrunk.

'You're right Mrs. Foley! Here, we'll take him out of your hands right away.' Quickly, but gently, Sam snatches up the baby and desperately tries to send a signal to Tucker.

He glances at Sam then back at his mother. 'Y-yea, mom we'll take care of him now. Danny's probably been waiting for forever, heh.' He snaps his laptop shut and shoves it into his backpack.

He quickly lands a peck on Angela's cheek, ignoring her questioning glare. 'Bye mom! Thanks mom! See ya at dinner love ya!'

The door slams shut and Angela is left alone with her thoughts. She pushes them aside and mumbles under her breath, 'I'll never understand those kids.'

…

An untouched patch of green waves gently in the breeze before meeting its demise under another one of the goth girl's Godzilla like terror. The grass stands no chance against the storm of Sam's combat boots as she paces furiously in circles.

'I knew we should have stayed with him to track down that mystery ghost last night! But no, of course he said it would be fine! GAH! And now we have no idea who or what this ghost is and how to fix it!'

Tucker sits on the bench, cradling baby Danny in his arms while she continues to ramble. Sam's fury could have set off a nuclear explosion but he knows that under all that anger, fear is making a fierce comeback.

He would know, because he's plenty terrified for his best friend too.

The infant is significantly tinier than the first time they found him in his room and is continuing to shrink. During their walk from Tucker's to the park, they saw it all in action.

His ghostly aura had shone brighter and dimmed to less than its normal glow when he had shrunk. Danny would wail every time it happened leaving the two teens to pull out all the cards they had about calming a baby. In the end, it was Tucker getting his ear nabbed by Sam after a crude remark that did the job.

Sam guessed, from the couple hours they've been taking care of him, he had probably grown a few months backwards. A serious Benjamin Button case. And they both know where that leads if he keeps up this rate.

Tucker uses a free hand to scroll through the files on his laptop sitting next to him on the bench. 'I couldn't find anything about an age changing ghost. Danny's ghost files don't have anything useful either…' Just then, the baby hiccups, and a blue wisp escapes. Giggling, the infant reaches out to toy with the mysterious vapour, oblivious of the impending doom from his ghost sense.

The two teens are on their feet and back-to-back in an instant, scanning their surroundings for any threats. Little Danny shivers in Tucker's arm and shrinks once more. Those little lungs conjure up a pitiful cry that rips through the sound barrier.

Before they could begin their silly ritual of stopping the baby's wail, a soft hum of a lullaby echoes around them. The teens rummage around their pockets for their weapons only to realize they had left them in Danny's room.

A gush of wind cuts between them sending them tumbling into the ground. Tucker curls into a ball to protect Danny only to realize that he was embracing nothing but air.

'Oh no. No, no, no. Sam! SAM! I can't find Danny!' He frantically searches the ground around him and stares as the once perfectly green grass withers and browns before him. Looking up, he freezes at the sight of Sam's limp body sprawled next to the park bench. A sickly shade of red stains its corner.

Her name slips off his trembling lips once more as he crawls towards her. Her dark make-up looks surreal on her nearly white face save for the nasty cut on her forehead. He gently brushes her hair aside and wipes the blood off her face with a sleeve, holding back the bile crawling up his throat. Her body stirs ever so slightly, thin strips of white appear as her eyelids slowly separate themselves.

'T-tuck…er? Whe-…mmf..whe..re's..Da-ow…' Hissing, she slowly props herself up on her forearms. A looming shadow approaches and Tucker places himself between his wounded friend and the attacker. If Tucker wasn't so sure that this ghost was the enemy right now, he would've asked it for its number.

The stranger's figure would have put any model to shame. A gold dress glitters and hugs all her curves perfectly, covering just enough of her blue skin to make any man bend to her will. An hourglass is engrained into her exposed stomach, showing the sand trickling down, nearing the end of its run. Her short golden hair flows around her head as if she was a mermaid under water; matching eyes stare amusedly at the children before her.

'Stay back!' Tucker growls, pulling out his PDA in some show of a weapon.

The ghost hums and reveals the little bundle she has in her hands. Tucker's stance falters. The baby looks only a few months old now. His mess of white hair is now thinned out atop his fragile scalp. His once chubby hands are merely little stubs on his body.

'Hush now, or you'll wake my prize…' Her lips never move but the silky sweet voice infiltrates the air around him. She speaks slowly and quietly, as if every word was a secret of the universe.

'What do you…want from him?' Tucker flinches when he hears Sam's voice next to his ear, 'Be ready,' She adds only for him to hear. He glares at her in a mixture of concern and confusion. Her normally firm posture is slouched and she sways slightly. That hit to the head did her something awful.

The ghost bats the question away like a fly, 'That is of no concern to you mere mortals.' The split second it took for the glowing apparition to look away in disdain set Sam in action. She chucks her boot hitting its mark on the ghost's stomach.

Doubling forward in shock, the ghost lifts her head only to meet another boot colliding painfully with her forehead. Tucker finally understands Sam's warning, noticing the opening for him to run ahead and grab Danny out of the ghost's arm.

Sending a scathing glare, her slim blue arms aim a stream of shimmering golden energy at the teens. Tucker grabs Sam by the arm and pulls her alongside him as he dodges attack after attack. He bites back a retort on how she was the one who had to keep up with him just as a burst of energy explodes beside them, sending them airborne.

An old oak breaks their fall as they tumble down through the broken branches landing in a pitiful pile on the grass. Tucker wraps his body around little Danny, protecting him, as he takes the brunt of the fall.

The smoke fills the air, hiding Tucker and Sam from their attacker but also blinding them. As it starts to clear, Tucker crawls around, ignoring all the aches in his body as he searches for Sam. He finds her and quickly hauls her behind a nearby bush. He takes a moment to regain his breath, holding Sam close to him as he observes his surroundings.

The park is a mess of obliterated flora and fauna. Large beautiful oaks and willows look frail and papery unlike their usual majestic appearance. Patches of grass are uprooted everywhere. Sam would have a fit over this later, vocalizing the need to protect the earth.

'Come now, children. Return what's rightfully mine and this will all be over soon.' The voice sings and floats around them.

The tech-savvy teen takes a deep breath, trying and failing to readjust his cracked glasses. His mind is going on overdrive. Danny is practically the size of a kitten and completely unresponsive. He doesn't have much time.

He grasps his goth friend's shoulders and looks into her eyes, noticing how she couldn't keep them in one spot. They were both a mess of scratches and torn clothes. Sam's head wound is bleeding out again. Half her face was caked in the coppery substance. Her head probably feels like it's going through a hurricane.

The sounds of the ghost's barrage of ectoblasts approaches them paired with a sweet voice singing a lullaby. Tucker almost does a double-take, unable to wrap his mind around the fact that the maniacal ghost is pretending to be on American Idol while obliterating an entire park.

He spots a small shack just a few yards away. Turning around, the telltale sign of FentonWorks peeks through the cluster of trees a couple blocks farther. He quickly devises a plan.

Handing over the baby to an unfocused Sam, he holds her head in his hands, 'Sam? Sam please you gotta listen. There's a shack close by. You have to get there and hide okay? I'll distract her. Please Sam, can you hear me?'

She blinks hard a couple times, staring at the miniscule bundle in her arms. An iron grip encompasses the black teen's wrist. 'Her power…she can manipulate age or something…I saw it. The grass. It either gets sucked back into the ground or…grows and grows until…it turns yellow and crumbles. We have to…stop it…before…before Danny…' She relaxes her grip never finishing the single thought that constantly invades both their minds. One of the many perks of having a superhero best friend. 'Maybe Mr. Fenton's new weapon will work…against her.'

Tucker nods. 'Got it. Now go hi–',

'Tuck. Listen. I can distract her. Go hide Danny in that shack,' She hands Danny over back to her friend, 'I won't be able…to run that far to get to the Fentons on time and you know it. But you can. I'll keep her away from Danny.'

'Sam…'

'I'll be fine…Promise,' Tucker's eyes are hidden behind the glare of his crooked glasses as he lowers his head. Sam senses his worry crash into her like a wave and repeats quieter this time, 'I'll be fine, Tuck.'

He lifts his head up and meets her eyes, a firm line set on his lips. This is their best chance. Sam has always been strong. He has to believe that she can make it. He gives her hand a reassuring squeeze before they part ways.

'Hey Goldie! Over here!' The ghost spins around with a deep frown and darts towards her. Sam's taunts drift farther and farther away while Tucker sprints like a madman towards the shack.

Bursting through the door, he finds a little crate full of rags and places his half-ghost friend in the makeshift hiding spot, tucking the box in a corner out of sight. 'We'll be back, Danny, and you'll be just fine. We've been through worse things right?' He chuckles but his grin never meets his eyes. He gives one last look before dashing towards the Fenton's.

Tucker's legs scream at him to stop but he pushes forward, panting like a dog. From all the months of ghost hunting, running is still the bane of his existence.

Finally, he arrives. The ridiculous neon sign has never looked so inviting. He skips up the steps with an unknown burst of energy, knocking furiously on the door.

Mr. Fenton meets him at the entrance once again, but his boisterous happiness is soon replaced with confusion and worry at the sight of the teen. 'Gee, Tuck you look like you went through a blender. Hey…where are Danny and Sam?'

'Mr. Fenton…Ghost attack…at park…danger! Need your…Flipperwhatever…' He greedily gulps for air and rests his head against a headrest…outside Danny's house?

He doesn't realize it at first, but at the word ghost, The Fentons were already in action. Mrs. Fenton had already carried him into the GAV, checking his wounds, as Mr. Fenton geared up and filled the vehicle with weapons. Tucker tells them all about the ghost and her powers and in just under a minute, they arrive at the disastrous park in record time.

The GAV barely rolls to a stop as Maddie and Jack Fenton leap out of the car, running towards the radiant ghost, ecto-weapons blazing.

'Tucker go find Sam!' Maddie shouts as she somersaults away from another attack just as Jack dives in front of her and fires his ectogun at the ghost. The golden apparition merely glares daggers at the ghost hunter. Her glowing eyes spot Tucker running through the maze of fallen trees and she reappears in front of him, causing the teen to backpedal and fall flat on his butt.

'Where have you kept my prize, child?' The ghost's sing-song voice cuts through the air like a knife through butter. Her face is inches from his and he can feel the power she wields. It feels like a jackhammer is pounding against his skull. In the distance, he can hear the Fentons charging up their weapons.

'Hmm…perhaps we could negotiate a trade?' Jack and Maddie's well aimed blasts fly through the spot where the ghost had disappeared. Maddie gently lifts Tucker to his feet and he grips his head trying to squeeze the pain out of it.

They feel the chill return of the spirit behind them. Maddie and Jack turn ready to fire but stop dead in their tracks, fear laced in their eyes. The battered and bruised form of the teenage goth dangles like rag doll from the ghost's hand.

'Give me my prize, or you shall lose two instead of one.' She says this mockingly, losing a touch of her ethereal way of delivering words. She is well and truly mad. The Hourglass on her stomach shows a handful of sand left and Tucker realizes that it was Danny's lifeline. As soon as it runs out of time, so does his best friend.

Maddie leans towards the teen, still keeping her aim on the ghost, and asks, 'Tucker, what is she talking about?'

Tucker's mind is reeling and never registers the question so he answers with another. 'Where's the Fenton Flipperoni?' Never in his life would he have thought to use that name so seriously.

'It's back at the GAV, but we haven't tested it yet.' Jack's booming voice is unusually calm yet strained with worry.

'Doesn't matter. You guys are great scientists I'm sure it'll work.' The Fentons give him a wary smile.

'Alright, alright goldilocks! We'll get you your _prize_.' He says louder for the ghost to hear and nods towards where the GAV was hastily parked. Maddie catches on and Jack follows suit after a strange exchange of expressions with his wife.

They hurry towards the assault vehicle with the glowing lady following behind. Jack digs through the weapons and finds their _prize._

'HERE'S YOUR PRIZE ECTO-SCUM!' He whips around with a contraption nestled against his side with a handle on top which he wraps his knuckles around. The shining metal gleams in the sunlight and Jack pushes a button on the side of the rectangular metal box. A loud whine builds up, white light glows from the cylindrical opening. It charges up and Jack flicks another switch and…nothing happens.

'Uh oh.' The three stare dumbfounded at the device and flinch at the serene chuckle coming from the ghost.

'You dare fool me? You mortals stand no ch–ARGH!' Maddie lowers her weapon a fraction of an inch, the barrel still smoking from the last shot. A smug smile finds its way to her lips.

'URRGHHH! YOU WILL ALL PERISH FOR YOUR FOOLISHNESS YOU PATHETIC MORTALS!' The enraged spirit drops Sam carelessly onto the ground and charges up another ball of energy with both her hands aiming for the orange clad man.

'JACK!' Maddie pushes her husband out of the line of fire and Tucker quickly snatches the Fenton Flipperoni from the large man's hands.

He stands directly in front of the luminescent ray and flicks the switches just like Mr. Fenton did before. The force of the ghost's energy being sucked into the contraption causes Tucker to slide back a few feet. Once the energy was collected he quickly presses the other switch and the same burst of yellow explodes out of the device crashing into the ghost's torso.

The spirit tumbles back a few feet and is back on her feet in an instant. Her golden dress is charred black and the hourglass cracks. Her eyes glow menacingly as she stares at Tucker and her lips part for the first time revealing shark-like teeth bared and ready to rip his head off his shoulders.

'You. YOU IMPUDENT LITTLE RAT. I WILL…I wi–' Her words dwindle down to a pathetic squeak as her body glows in hues of lemony and honey gold. The hourglass slowly disintegrates, spreading throughout her body. She's shrinking. Her golden dress and hair are now unruly and grey-brown, her skin grows taught and her limbs shrink towards the center. As though a blackhole had been created in her stomach. The sound of her strangled gasps and whines fade away as does her entire being. Until there is nothing left but black sand on the ground.

Tucker's shoulders rise up and down almost comically as he gathers oxygen into his system. Maddie helps Jack to his feet and turn to see Tucker stumbling towards the black-haired girl laying on the ground.

'Jack…get the first aid kit and call an ambulance.' They catch up instantly and find the young teen cradling his friend closely, muttering gibberish with tears threatening to fall from his eyes.

It feels like a lifetime but Sam's eyes finally flutter ever so slightly, and she cracks a small smile at the sight of her friend's relieved face. 'Told you…I'd be…fine.' She rasps out, grimacing as she coughs up a storm. Her leg was bent at an awful angle, cuts and bruises painted her pale body.

Maddie gently tends to Sam's more treatable wounds while they await the paramedics. Tucker and Jack are chatting up a storm, marvelling at the effectiveness of the Fenton Flipperoni, to keep Sam awake.

The wailing sirens near them. A couple of EMTs rush towards to the little group with a stretcher. Soon enough, Sam was secured and ready to go when a paramedic approaches Maddie and Jack asking if they were related to the young girl. The question spikes up warning signals in their minds. They scribble down the Mansons' information in a craze before letting Sam be on her way to the hospital.

'Where's Danny?' Maddie almost chokes on the words. Her eyes are wide with all the fear of a mother as she grips Tucker's shoulders and looks him in the eye, 'Tucker. Where's Danny?'

…

 _Ouch._ That's the first thing that comes to mind when he finally grabs a hold of his senses. One moment he's listening to a lullaby, then he wakes up to a massive headache and aching limbs. He doesn't remember much but images of his friends pop in here and then. Were they really that much…bigger than him? It must've been a dream, he counters.

He finally opens his eyes, not realizing they were closed. His body is sprawled across overturned crates and garden tools. He groans.

A flash of white. Why was he in his ghost-form? His limbs ache for attention once more as his ghostly persona disappears, in return bringing back the feeling of pain. His body feels like it's being stretched and squished all at once. Like his bones had been shattered and are now struggling to stay connected.

He stays in that awkward lying position for a while, not daring to move a muscle for fear of initiating another jolt of agony. He hears a crack and sinks down a centimeter. His eyes make a hilarious show of fighting between confusion and annoyance. Another crack. And another. A final snap splinters the crate underneath him and he crashes onto the ground, various tools and unidentifiable objects fall on top of him as he lets out an undignified yelp.

'Ugh. Just…my luck.' He pulls enough energy out from his icy core to let his body pass between the atoms as he rolls out of the mess. His arms are trembling terrifically as he holds himself up, head hanging between his shoulders. That simple trick made his stomach twist. As though his own body was eating him alive from the inside out.

He hears something rustle ahead of him but he can't find the strength to stand. Instead he lifts his head to see a door swing open. The glaring yellow light of the sun fills the little room in an instant, making him squint. Shadows appear around him, grabbing his arms and calling his name.

He looks beside him, vision clearing, and his best friend's sweat-ridden face meets his glassy-eyed stare. He laughs weakly.

'Gee, Tuck. You look awful.'

His friend gives him an incredulous look, then shakes his head and laughs.

'You don't look any better, dude.' They share crooked grins and he suddenly feels his body being lifted and held against a warm front. His head droops and he rests it against the familiar orange jumpsuit.

'Heh, hey Dann-o. You gave us quite the scare there.' His Dad's chest rumbles as he talks and Danny curls in closer to the nostalgic sensation.

When Danny was much younger, Dad would let him rest an ear against his chest when he told stories about the paranormal. He would feel the vibrations roll across his father's torso. The buzz of dad's baritone voice would echo within his large ribcage. It made Danny feel less scared about the unknown when his ears were getting tickled from all the movement.

A small hand brushes his hair back and rests on his cheek, bringing him back to the present. He opens his eyes to see his mom's smiling face. 'Let's get you home, honey.'

Danny hums in agreement and lets his heavy eyelids droop. He's out in an instant and has never felt more comfortable as he dreams of childhood memories and a never ending lullaby.

...

* * *

Thanks for reading folks! Quick note: I actually had trouble with how to end this little bit. It ends quite nicely as it does already but if you are curious as to what else I had in mind feel free to read ahead. Think of it as an extended ending of sorts. Both endings have a different feel to it so I thought I'd give you readers the option to experience each one. I hope you enjoy!

* * *

 **Extended ending:**

 _A few days later_

'So I actually froze your mom's hair, huh?' The raven-haired teen chuckles and tucks his hands in his pockets. Danny leans against the ledge of the window pane that was decorated with get well cards and a small bouquet of roses. Courtesy of Pamela Manson. Stars splatter across the night sky beyond the half-open blinds, 'I can't believe she actually let it slide.' He scoffs.

Tucker is barely sitting on the edge of a seat with a Gameboy in his hands, the light of the screen reflects off his glasses. His fingers furiously jam the buttons matching the frantic tap-tap-tap of his heel against the sterile hospital floor.

'Hah. Yea and you nearly took my head off my shoulders.' Tucker runs a hand across his short tuft of hair absentmindedly, missing the security of his red hat.

He knows his friend means it as a joke but the half-ghost teen still visibly cringes and lets out a long exhale. 'Man, I'm so sorry guys. I can't believe I let this happen.'

The sound of a book slamming shut diverts both of the boy's attention to the hospital bed. Frizzy black hair amplifies the furrowed brows of annoyance as Sam Manson delivers a menacing glower towards her best friend, 'Danny, I swear to god if you apologize one more time we'll be switching spots the next time we're in a hospital.'

Danny holds out his hands in a show of surrender and to block any item Sam might find to throw at him. (Jello is hard to get of his hair, he realizes after their visit the other day.) 'Alright, alright.' His eyes flicker towards the large cast on his friend's leg and the bandage around her head. The goth's sharp violet eyes catch his worried baby blues and he gets the message. His shoulders sag and a weary smile finds its way on his face, 'Honestly though, thanks. You guys are the best.'

'We _know_.' Came the synchronized response.

A yawn escapes Sam's mouth and her half-lidded eyes alert them that it was time to let her rest. Visiting hours had long since gone by, but it was also the only time they could sneak in for a visit without her parent's knowing. They had a huge fit and had forbidden her to see 'That Fenton boy and his crazy family' for eternity.

Thankfully, she had persuaded them to cut down the timeline to three months. After, of course, begrudgingly agreeing to attend her mother's afternoon tea sessions with other wealthy families for the next while.

Danny transforms into his alter ego, causing a burst of light that is blinding in the dim room. Tucker is on his feet in an instant, eager to leave the confines of the doctor-and-patient-infested building. Sam tucks in farther under the covers from Danny's ghostly chill as she reclines her bed, muttering a barely audible 'Good night' to the two boys as they disappear beyond the white shutters. A few rose petals ruffle from the disturbance.

By next morning, Sam will never know how to explain to her parents that a freshly picked bouquet of roses from their garden browned and withered away overnight.


	4. Competition

Here's a short little drabble. Thank you to Luna and Moni for the prompt! (a fighting Danny and Sam and Tucker face-palming)

* * *

 _ **Competition**_

 **...**

Shot. He got freakin' shot. _Again. Are you kidding me right now?_ His thoughts were interrupted as another one whizzed by his ear. He sprinted out in the fray, sending out a few blasts of his own before somersaulting behind a cement block. The barricade collided with his back as he tried to regain his composure, breaths coming in sharp and short through the too tight mask. He glanced down at his pants and noticed that his thigh was caught during that maneuver and probably various other spots too that he didn't bother to care about. _Dammit Fenton._ Growling in frustration, he wiped the dust from his goggles, eyes narrowing when his view became slightly less obscured. He peeked a head above his hideout, scanning the area carefully.

The sound of rock and gravel skittering across the ground caught his attention. He ducked behind the block and started crawling towards the noise. He stuck his head out of the hideout slowly. _Click._ He turns. _Too late._ Blast after blast rained down on his torso, he tried scrambling back only to successfully cause a mini dust-storm. Five, six, seven...he lost count and settled with crossing his arms in front of his face, waiting for the pain to end.

 _Click. Click. Click._

 _Finally._

He yanked off his mask clutching onto his sore stomach, choking from all the dirt clogging his mouth and nose. A heated glare was directed at the fiery redhead who stood triumphantly before him; one arm propping the weapon against her shoulder, the other placed on her hip. A cheeky smile painted her otherwise innocent looking face.

"That's 4 out of 4 little brother."

Danny stuck his tongue out only to cough and spit out the dirt that lingered in his mouth. He stomped off the paintball field grumbling as he passed by a highly amused looking pair of spectators giving him an encouraging thumbs up to which he immensely disapproved of when his eyes glowed a neon green. A snicker escaped the duo as they stared at the unmistakable paint mark on Danny's backside as he disappeared behind the change room doors.

"Should we tell him?" Tuck nudged an elbow towards his goth friend between giggles.

"Nah. It'll bite him in the butt eventually" She barely managed before they burst out laughing.


	5. How Sweet It Is

What's better than winning? Seeing someone lose.

* * *

 _ **How Sweet It Is**_

 _... **  
**_

 _CRASH!_

The mansion shook from the force of the young halfa being thrown mercilessly towards the ground, leaving massive holes in every floor and finally landing in a crumpled heap in the basement. He laid there for a few moments dragging in precious oxygen to stop his spinning head. A white ring fizzled in and out of existence around his waist as he struggled to balance himself on his hands and knees which were trembling ferociously.

 _Damn Plasmius Maximus. Damn Vlad Masters. Damn it all._

After what felt like an eternity through hell, the half-ghost managed to drag his body to a standing position. He swayed, gripping his left side, body hunched over in pain. His face was a mess of red and green spouting from a massive gash on his temple. The sleek black and white jumpsuit had seen much better days, rips and tears revealed nasty cuts and fresh bruises.

He removed his hand from his side. The once silver glove was now coated in green and alarming spots of crimson. "Shit." He wheezed out.

"Watch your tongue Daniel, your mother could arrive at any moment. We wouldn't want mother dearest to witness such a foul mouth, hm?" The smooth, buttery voice of the billionaire town mayor permeated the air, but to the teenage half-ghost, it was like nails getting filed on a chalkboard.

"Shove it fruitloop," Danny spat out and turned with a fierce glower, hoping to dredge up some of his strength to boost his bravado which only resulted in his face contorting in pain. His head violently protested the abrupt movement as he stumbled to gain his balance, mumbling more obscenities directed at the infuriating remnant of a man of his parents' past.

"A nuisance as always. Just like your bumbling oaf of a father. At least that idiot's no longer a problem, " Vlad paused, fangs glinting like the smooth metal tables in the basement lab, relishing the moment before completely crushing the young halfa's moral. "All thanks to you." His words dripped with acid, burning a hole through Danny's soul. Neon green eyes glowed like a beacon as the teenager shot forward with the force of his rage almost landing a punch on the immaculately trimmed goatee on Vlad's grinning face.

His fist collided spectacularly with the air. Danny glanced around dumbfounded as his brain struggled to catch up with all his senses. All too late, a sound halfway between a whine and a grunt escaped his lips when he felt his injured side crushed by a sudden weight. His arm was twisted awkwardly behind his back and a knee dug into his spine, painfully pinning him against the cold floor. Danny wriggled around to free himself which only resulted in more pressure being applied to his sore figure. Any attempts to phase through were rewarded with a jolt of electricity.

A gloved hand yanked at his hair, craning his head back at an uncomfortable angle. Static electricity buzzed in the air as Vlad's cool breath hissed at his ear. "This could have been avoided. Of course, you were too busy trying to be a hero to fully understand the consequences of your actions."

Tears were collecting at the corners of his eyes, whether from the pain or guilt, he couldn't tell. He winced away from the stinging words and soon found his nose pressed against the musky floor when Vlad abruptly let up his grip.

For the umpteenth time that night, Danny peeled himself off the ground. He turned and glared at the the older halfa plowing a glowing fist into Vlad's stomach, sending the man crashing into one of the machines. Danny grinned, finally getting some semblance of an upper hand in this fight. He shot towards the wreckage where smoke was billowing out of the dented metal and sparking wires. His hateful glare slowly turned into confusion when he saw Vlad in his human form slumped pitifully against the debris.

Danny approached him warily, unsure of how to proceed. Did he really just knock Vlad Masters out with a single punch? He had barely grazed him in the past half hour they'd been fighting. As much as he wanted to praise himself for finally getting back at Vlad, something wasn't quite right. He moved closer and noticed a disturbing amount of red where Vlad lay. His eyes widened in panic as he scrambled towards the bleeding figure and reached out gripping onto the smooth fabric of Vlad's lavish suit.

"Vlad? Vlad! This isn't funny! C'mon, wake up!" His voice was frantic. This couldn't be happening. Not again. His eyes were wild and inspecting the prone figure for the severe injury he had unexpectedly caused, refusing to believe he had made two deadly mistakes in one day. Danny felt the man shudder under his hold and he released a sigh of relief which was quickly stopped short in his throat when the familiar demonizing chuckle reached his ears.

"Perfect timing, boy."

There was a click then a soft whine of something charging up.

"Step away from him, ghost." Danny tensed at the familiar voice, though all the warmth and tenderness was rudely replaced with venomous hatred. He turned slowly and found himself staring down the barrel of an ecto-gun.


	6. Some Things Never Change

**A/N:** I couldn't seem to find the original poster of this AU so if you have the link or name of the person who thought of it let me know! Credit where credit is due and all that jazz. Also, thank you luna for picking a title and editing! All my love and gratitude.

Prompt: **"** An au where once a year on their death-day, ghosts re-experience their death and Danny, in typical fashion, experiences his at the worst moment possible."

* * *

 _ **Some Things Never Change**_

...

"Okay, now turn your signal on and be sure to shoulder check and make sure nobody's crossing the street and did you shoulder check yet? Where's your blinker? Are you even listening to me? You're going too fast! Slow down!"

"Jazz! I already made the turn now can you stop spazzing out for just one sec?" Danny snapped, a flicker of green sparked in his eyes. He could feel her breath tickling his ears, as she barked out instructions far too loudly for her proximity. Of course Jazz would bribe Mom and Dad to get her to be his driving instructor.

She promptly tucked a stray piece of fiery red hair behind an ear, sheepishly scooting back into her seat. Her eyes were still frantically flicking to the road and back to her brother, whose grip had tightened on the steering wheel.

"I'm just making sure you're constantly on your toes while driving," She continued on in her usual overprotective sister tone. To be fair, Danny wasn't doing all too bad as a novice. Sure he was a bit fidgety, but otherwise he was pretty confident. Thank goodness he didn't inherit Dad's driving skills. "You never know what could happen on the road! You have to be able to deal with any distractio- DANNY LOOK OUT!"

The small lavender sedan comically tilted on its side as it swerved around an unsuspecting bunny, its nose twitching innocently, watching its potential murderer hurtle by. Brakes screeched, the car spun wildly tracing large S's across the fortunately quiet road.

The two Fentons bounced in their seats as all four wheels reacquainted themselves with the road. Jazz was clinging onto every surface possible like a trapped mouse. White knuckled and ashen faced, she turned to Danny with impossibly wide eyes, her mouth opened and ready to release a flood of unsavoury comments. Instead, she froze with an even more stricken look on her face.

Danny pulled into a small empty parking lot and had barely shut off the engine before guffawing in utter glee. He wiped a tear from his eye unable to stop his avalanche of giggles, another hand clutching his gut for more emphasis. "Oh man! Jazz y-your face! Man do I ever wish I have a camera right now!" He barely managed between his uncontrollable fits of laughter.

Jazz stared for another second before a burning flush raced to her cheeks. She smoothed down her clothes and crossed her arms. Sitting perfectly upright, she stuck her nose in the air and glared at her infuriating brother. "Danny! It's not funny! We could've gotten seriously injured!"

This seemed to calm her brother down a fraction of a notch. "Aw come on, Jazz. I've dodged bigger and scarier missiles with the Spectre Speeder. This was a piece of cake compared to that." The remaining chuckles flutter away from his lips. "Besides, if we do crash it'll be because of your constant nagging. I can see it now in the headlines," He dramatically swipes a palm in the air as he announces the tile, shooting a playful grin at Jazz, "Fenton siblings found dead in tragic accident due to overbearing older sister."

She huffed, masking the concern on her face with frustration. For someone who had such a close encounter with death, her brother sure had a morbid sense of humour. Danny seemed to catch on, the smirk long gone from his face. She never was good at hiding her emotions.

"Hey, I saw a 7-11 just down the street. C'mon I'll even buy you that gross yogurt drink you practically live off of." He stepped out of the car, easily dispelling the tension they had between them not seconds ago. Her shoulders drooped and followed suit, for once not having the energy to pick apart his thoughts. She already wasted too much of it keeping her heart from jumping out of her chest just minutes ago.

"Other than almost running over Bugs Bunny, how'd I do?" Danny's voice perked up after a moment of walking across the deserted parking lot. His hands were resting in his hoodie pocket, lean shoulders set in a confident posture. Jazz had to take two steps to keep up with his one stride. He was a full head taller than her now. She wondered when her brother had grown up so much. It seemed like only yesterday that her baby brother was looking up at her with those wide blue eyes.

She smiled up at him brightly, full of pride for more reasons than the present thought. "Not too bad, little brother."

"Ja-azz, I'm not that little anymore." He whined, not at all helping his claim.

"Yeah, but I'm still older than you." She tilted her chin up, flashing him a smile and picked up the pace swiftly overtaking him. She skipped towards the bright 7-11 sign, allowing herself a moment to revel in her comeback. Jazz didn't bother looking back until an unsettling silence fell upon the warm afternoon. Either Danny had really grown up or he had suddenly lost the ability to construct a snarky remark. Both of which were highly unlikely in her thoughts.

And then she heard it.

Jazz knew, as soon as it broke through her ear drums that this was not a sound she could ever forget. No matter how hard she tried. It had taken a sweltering iron bar and shoved its way into her mind, ingraining a burning, immovable brand.

Danny's screams vibrated her entire being and she didn't know when she had crossed the distance between her and his convulsing body pressed pitifully against the hot cement. The rising decibels of his howls pounded against her skull. Her lips moved. She couldn't hear herself, but she was sure she was calling his name. It was so _loud_.

It lasted ten seconds. Ten seconds she would never, ever be able to erase from her life.

Her ears rang from the screams still echoing faintly in the background, an eerie counterpoint to his now rasping breaths. Her brother had been hit with everything every ghost has thrown at him and she had been privy to his pained shouts before, but this - this was unlike anything she had ever witnessed. It was horribly, painfully new. It was like being stabbed in the same spot over and over again; felt like skin slowly being ripped off your body.

It was the sound of pure, unadulterated anguish.

And it came out of her little brother's writhing body.

Her face was suddenly wet, and she noticed detachedly that she was crying.

Danny had briefly let her in on the details of the accident, dumbing it down to him being zapped and walking out looking like some photo-negative version of himself. _It just happened Jazz, so can you just drop it?_ His words played back in her mind. She remembered feeling even more curious than ever. Now she just felt awful. She concluded absently that Danny was simply trying to protect her from his hidden torment. He always did try to protect everyone. Her vision blurred again and she blinked hard.

Danny's sweat-ridden face was cradled in her lap as she sat numbly on the uneven concrete ground. She ran her fingers through his matted hair comfortingly, hoping to diffuse her brother's distress. His body spasmed every few seconds eliciting a miserable whimper causing her to flinch each time.

It felt like eons before she saw dull blue peek through heavy eyelids. His lips parted, a sound crossed between a cough and a wheeze tumbled out. She held him closer, hugging his shaking shoulders close to her chest, as his head lolled against her neck.

"J-ja...zz..?" She fought back more tears at the sound of her brother's broken voice.

"It's okay, little brother. It's okay." He was easily twice her size, but in that moment in her arms, he seemed very, very small.


	7. Technical Difficulties

Prompt: _"This is a very important message..."_

* * *

 _ **Technical Difficulties**_

 _ **...**_

Ever since the incident with Technus, Tucker had developed an almost closet suspicion and, he would never admit it, aversion towards technology. He still wouldn't leave his house without his trusted PDA, but often times, rather than checking his gear for any new updates or games or simply to distract himself from Lancer's droning, he found himself going through all his data and files making sure the encryption was untouched since his last inspection...two minutes ago. Paranoia set in like a stone in his gut that he refused to acknowledge.

The boy loved his gear and he wouldn't give it up for the world, but the thought that a ghost was possessing his one true love (Shut up Sam.) was a bit unsettling. If there was anything he trusted more than his best friends and parents, it was his tech. Having that trust violated by a ghost was a bit too close to home for the young teen.

Of course, this didn't go by unnoticed with friends like Danny and Sam. Despite constant reassurance that if Technus was still around, Danny's ghost sense would be going _haywire._ (Dammit Danny!) And Sam had even helped fund his haul of replacing old possibly contaminated tech. Man, he really loved his friends.

It took a couple weeks of sleepless nights, waking up to make sure he had unplugged all his computers and shut down all his handheld devices, for Tucker to finally bounce back. Both Danny and Sam, who would normally be groaning in annoyance, beamed at him as Tucker started spewing all the news in the techno geek world during his absence.

Then again. What was the saying? All good things come to an end.

It was late one Friday after school. The trio had just finished bagging the box ghost for the fifth time that day and were preparing for the weekend by stuffing their faces at the Nasty Burger. "My treat." Tucker had said, earning skeptical yet impressed glances from his two friends. He waited for their order, leaning against the counter and playing some game on his new phone when a message popped up.

 _"This is a very important message..."_

Tucker's glasses reflected the light from his phone, his eyebrow quirked and he snorted when he saw the sender's name: _Danny._ Probably some joke he'll read up on later.

He picked up the tray of food, shoving his phone in his pocket as he made his way to their usual booth. Tucker and Danny dug into the greasy bags to Sam's disgust as she sipped on her vanilla soy milkshake.

After a few minutes of frantic shovelling of food into the never ending bowels of their stomachs, the trio lounged around the booth slipping off into a food coma daze. Tucker let out an abrasive burp, earning a grin and high five from Danny and a loud retort from Sam though she couldn't keep her lips from twitching up into a smile.

A buzz in his right pocket reminded Tucker of the message he had yet to open from earlier. He slipped his phone out of the pocket gesturing at Danny with it.

"Dude what's with this 'very important message' you sent me? Y'know you could've just told me since we were together pretty much all day." He eyed Sam, his eyebrows wiggled, "Unless of course it was about something else." He not-so-subtly flicked his gaze towards Sam who was busy picking through their trash to salvage any recyclable materials.

Danny gave him a weird look and Tucker suddenly felt something akin to dread, a feeling so much like the nights when he went to bed, double-triple checking that everything electronic was shut off. Even the wifi router. He didn't even care that he had to set it up for his parents every morning. He had never been so patient.

"Uhm, I lost my phone like, last week. Remember? Skulker and his stupid new bazooka? Tuck? Dude, you okay?" Danny was suddenly next to him. Sam was speaking to him too apparently, worry flooded her violet eyes. He hadn't realized that he had sunk back into the booth, the phone clutched so tight in his hands he could almost feel a bruise beginning to build.

The glaring screen flashed to life as it buzzed once again signalling the unopened message.

Somewhere in the back of his mind someone told him to toss that phone in the nearest garburator. He laughed. This was stupid. So stupid. It couldn't be Technus. Danny's ghost sense hadn't gone off. No ghost. No possession. No problem.

Another bout of worrying questions woke him out of his trance and he managed a grin to ease the concern off his friend's faces. "Y-yeah. I'm totally fine. Hah. Probably some dude who stole your phone trying to do something dumb." He swiped at the screen to delete the message. It glitched. His heart sank to the bottom of his shoe. The last thing he saw was the familiar puff of blue escaping Danny's lips and then everything was red.

* * *

More like _Tuck-_ nical difficulties, haha! Ahem, right then. Hello, hello, I'm back! Life got busy, but now I have some time so I'll probably (hopefully) see you all around here more often. Onwards!


	8. Purple Haze

Short and sweet drabble. And yes, title is reference to the ever great Jimi Hendrix's song by the same name.

* * *

 _ **Purple Haze**_

 _ **...**_

"...so you're colour blind now?"

Danny's fingers tap irritably against the table, head struggling to nestle into his right palm. The dark circles under his eyes scream for attention. Tucker and Sam had never seen him so tired in the past year they've been ghost fighting. Which was saying something because Danny was _always_ tired. "I don't think so, I wasn't before but now everything's kinda...psychedelic." Thanks dad-lingo.

"Woah, what colour are my teeth?" Tucker grins widely leaning towards his best friend and earns a sharp jab from Sam. He pouts and rubs at the newly sore spot like a wounded puppy and backs off under Sam's scolding stare.

"Do you know when it started?" Sam ventured, a gleam of curiosity twinkle in her eyes.

"I...I don't remember actually. It just happened, I guess. It's been slowly building up for a while. I thought I was just tired and seeing things but it's been getting weirder and weirder. Colours don't even make sense anymore." He stifles a yawn and picks up his fork, poking at his lunch. Orange steak and purple mashed potatoes. Yum. "Oh and green."

Sam has one of those looks in her eyes again, the one she sported every time she found a new cause to fight for. Which meant lots of research and library visits in the future.

"Green? Eugh yuck." Tucker spits out, making a face to which Sam replies with a snort. Danny yawns again.

"Yeah. Yuck. Don't ask me to check for food in your teeth ever." He shudders at the thought of yellows, purples and orange splayed across a neat row of green teeth. His stomach grumbles and he shoves a forkful of purple mashed potatoes into his mouth. At least it still tastes the same.

"Do you think it's some kind of new ghost power?" The goth presses on, unable to hide her growing interest in this new discovery.

"If you count making the cafeteria food look even more gross than usual, then yeah."


	9. Sleep

Even heroes deserve a bit of rest. Might I recommended listening to The King's Singers rendition of U2's _MLK_.

* * *

 _ **Sleep**_

 _ **...**_

To say that today was a tiring day was the equivalent of claiming that the Taj Mahal was but a simple building - highly inadequate and grossly understated. The young half-ghost thought he had finally come to terms with exhaustion being a part of his not-so-normal everyday life, but today proved him so achingly wrong he was sure he heard his bones creak from the mere thought of it.

It was Friday and Danny just could not wait for the week to be over, pleading for at least one day a week with more than five hours of sleep.

Ghosts were popping up everywhere, leaving Danny to fend them off in some giant game of whack-a-mole. He had showed up late to every class, thought up a million and one more excuses to step out to bag another ghost and didn't even bother taking the extra effort to fly to his last class of the day with Lancer. Which wouldn't have mattered anyway since time had since lost all meaning to him after his last ghost fight.

He had just finished brawling with a seriously pissed off ghost bear, only barely keeping his eyes open long enough to trap it in the Fenton thermos. Fatigue seemed to pull on him, strengthening the force of gravity upon his sore figure. He dragged himself back to Casper High wholly unaware that the school day had ended nearly an hour ago. He hadn't even realized the ginormous gash he had received on his leg as he dragged himself towards the now empty Casper High parking lot. Exhaustion utterly destroyed any other feelings invading his nervous system.

Hadn't even realized when he collapsed into the arms of his two best friends who were frantically calling his name. Something akin to words fell out of his barely moving lips and he promptly passed out.

The next thing he knew he was drifting in a sea of plush pearl clouds, curling up in the warmth and stunning softness that seemed to brush against every inch of his body in a wave of absolute bliss. A calm breeze flittered by, playing with his raven hair and tickling his face. In the past few years of having a ghost half, he had never felt so incredibly light.

He wondered idly if this was heaven, instantly brushing aside the notion of dreaming. The thought of being fully dead left him in a weird unaffected state that he didn't bother to contemplate. He sighed, shutting off his mind and let the delightful feelings of rest take over his entire being.

 _Rest._

The word, and the idea of it sounded so foreign to him. He didn't think much past that as his mind drifted off once more.

 _z-z-z_

"Wow, he's really out of it huh?" Tucker spun around in the chair staring at the snoring lump of blankets.

After the crazy display yesterday, both him and Sam swiftly patched up his injuries and snuck him back into Fentonworks where Jazz fretted over him all night. When they checked back the next morning, he hadn't even stirred. Danny was moving on to hour fifteen of pure, uninterrupted and much needed sleep.

Messy raven hair spread out across the pillow brushed against the boy's arm as it fidgeted and curled under the blankets, the other dangled uselessly off the bed. A puddle of drool was collecting under Danny's chin, soaking the teddy he was clinging onto earlier, which was now nestled adorably against his neck.

"This is the most sleep he's gotten in the past month! Of course he's burnt out." Sam huffed in reply, "I told him to take it easy, we all did, but of course that idiotic hero complex of his wouldn't listen." The goth grumbled halfheartedly, pulling the covers closer to Danny's shoulders. He snuggled further into the sheets, mumbled something incomprehensible and resumed snoring.

Sam was right, of course. Danny was always so tired, the bags under his eyes could've rivaled a black hole. Tucker had a notebook full of places he'd caught his best friend passed out. It really was about damn time their superhero friend got some rest.

A sudden loud snore broke his train of thought. Tucker and Sam stared as Danny hugged his teddy close to his chest and nuzzled against the pillow like a puppy. Sam couldn't help the small smile that crept onto her face as she reached out to brush some hair out of the sleeping teen's face.

Tucker snickered and silently snapped a photo before Sam noticed.


	10. Rebirth

Gets quite graphic here. Proceed with caution.

* * *

 _ **Rebirth**_

 _ **...**_

The young body was but a simple shell for the ghost to control - a puppet whose strings it could tug and pull at every which way it pleased. Despite the constant battle the human persisted on initiating each time it took over, it was all but a minor inconvenience. The human wouldn't remember most of this anyway when he regained consciousness.

It was a simple battle of mind against matter. Simple, for it to say since it was nothing but pure ectoplasmic electrical matrices occupying a slowly withering meat suit. Of course, it hadn't realized that the phrase was mind _over_ matter.

After months of combatting for control, the human had learned to cope with the other occupant in his mind. Finally overpowering the invasive creature hiding deep in the recesses of his mind.

It wasn't until a few months after where it began to develop a new found ability. It kept quiet, slowly collecting enough concentrated energy which burned with an icy fire. Slowly, the ghost fought back, digging through the brain, spreading its hunger for power like a virus.

When the day arrived for its return, it did so with an explosive release of energy that could have caused the earth to shatter. The human doubled over as a wall of agony erupted from his chest, clawing out of him as though he was being shoved into a meat grinder.

A frosty blue air encompassed him causing his temperature to drop far below freezing. His skin hardened and turned all shades of blacks and blues. Jagged patterns drew an aimless path across his skin, splitting it apart. The human stiffened, eyes wide and unseeing, mouth wide open in a silent cry. His body fell unceremoniously on the frozen ground, limbs stuck in rigid formation as the last of the human's life was dragged mercilessly from its body.

The blue aura shifted in waves, emanating from the broken corpse like steam from blues to purples to reds and finally settling on a putrid green glow.

The body shifted, its face twitched as it mechanically stood up. Its movements were doll like, lanky and abnormal. Arms and legs moved independently, perishing the idea of moving as a cohesive unit. Scarlet burned through the two holes where dead eyes once occupied. Crimson trailed down the glowing circles dripping off the corpse's chin. The drop fell with hiss, eating its way through the icy ground.

Broken lips cracked into a smile across the mangled face. It was about time for a rebirth of power.


	11. Trick or No-Treat

A bit late but here's a short Halloween drabble of the lovable trio.

* * *

 _ **Trick or No-Treat**_

...

The orange glow from the setting sun cast long shadows along the crowding sidewalks. Ghouls, werewolves, superheroes and princess of all kinds littered the streets on their way to break the one rule that would otherwise be suspicious any other day: taking candy from strangers.

At the corner of maple street, a crowd of Zombie jocks and a girls caked in make up and cat ears seemed to be laughing at some inside joke, leaving behind a growling ghost boy and his Black Widow companion.

"I can't believe it! Nobody, and I mean nobody has noticed that I'm the real Phantom! I don't get it! And what does Paulina know about hair dye and coloured contacts? This is certified snow white hair." The frustrated half-ghost tugged at his tousled locks to further prove his point, a deep frown and glowing green eyes completed the picture.

Sam swiped away at the red hair falling into her eyes, she missed a spot with the hairspray and now a stray curl kept tickling her nose to Danny's secret amusement. Thank goodness it was a wig. The amount of chemicals that went into this hairdo could've set the entire Manson estate on fire. _Now there's an idea,_ she thought semi-jokingly before saying out loud, "People see what they want to see, Danny. Who cares what they say. Now come on, Tucker's either waiting for us or he's been around the block at least five times already."

She jogged up ahead and Danny couldn't help but gawk at her extremely well fitted Black Widow attire. Her belt sat just a bit crookedly on her hips, a buckle on her thigh holstered a camouflaged ectoweapon, just in case. He caught his own jaw and sped after her.

They reached the front steps of the Foley residence and were not surprised to find out that Sam had been right...well, almost. Tucker had just left for his third round, leaving bags and bags of sweets in the living room before venturing on his quest for candy gold once more.

With a quick thanks and the most susceptible look Danny had received all night from Mrs. Foley, they were off to hunt down the remaining member of their party.

It didn't take long.

A small crowd of children of all ages were running away from a house in the distance, hands clamped over their ears. Faintly in the distant they heard someone singing. Well, if you could classify the sounds of scratched records and metal screeching against metal as singing.

Danny and Sam ran ahead wondering what the commotion was about, though they already had a pretty good idea. The half-ghost teen was the first to stop and double over in a wave of giggles and snorts. He barely had enough time to find a tree to lean against to keep his shaking body from falling over from laughing so hard. Sam on the other hand rolled her eyes so exceptionally, the ground beneath her must have shifted an inch.

Tucker was perched on one knee, balancing on a yoga mat he had attached to his and Danny's skateboards. His baggy white pants pooled around his ankles, a thin purple vest hung loosely on his skinny frame. The red beret was replaced with an equally red fez instead.

He had his left hand on his chest, the other reaching towards a Princess Jasmine look-a-like. She had her hands clasped in front of her, twitching from the urge to cover her suffering eardrums. She tried to smile but only a grimace made its way to her face as Tucker continued with his show. His eyes were closed, face full of emotion as he sang impossibly out of tune to the karaoke accompaniment he was blasting through the headphones of his walkman.

"I can show you the woooooorld! Shiiining, shiiimering, spleeeeenddiiiiiiid! Tell me princess, now when did you last let your heart deciiiiiiiide."

The girl's eye twitched and she flit her gaze wildly. They fell on Sam's unimpressed gaze with a silent plea. Sam rolled her eyes again and dragged a floundering Danny by the collar of his jumpsuit towards a screeching baboon named Tucker.

Sometimes she wonders why she even bothers with these two dorks.


	12. Catch Me If You Can

Emotions are hard to catch and even more annoying to keep. So why not chase them away instead?

* * *

 _ **Catch Me If You Can**_

...

Golden sunlight washes over the small town of Amity Park, bringing warmth to the chill spring morning. Everything stands still for a moment, like a photograph, crisp and clear. Puffy white clouds drift along, spectating the quiet town below them. Buildings tower over each other creating a rough contrast to the blue sky; rigid and rooted.

A soft breeze brushes by, disturbing leaves and grass glittering with leftovers from the rainfall that had long since passed before the break of dawn. The smell of it lingers as morning dewdrops toss into the air. Its soft twinkling thrives in the quiet. An equally twinkling giggle accompanies the ruffling of flora and fauna just as another stronger rush of wind passes by.

The grass parts like twin carpet trails, one slightly behind the other, racing across the large field. Dry patches of earth follow its wake. It continues towards the lake with a sharp hiss, echoing throughout the serene landscape. Two invisible figures zip by creating large rippling waves. The ducks quack, disturbed from their calm morning float.

Two almost synchronized thuds reverberate the trunk of an old willow. Long wiry branches shiver from the impact as a pair of black and white clad figures appear, panting hard.

"Hah! ...ha..I...w-won!" The younger one squeaks, collapsing against the thick rough bark; ignoring how it tugs at her tousled silver hair hanging loose from her ponytail. She finds enough strength to send a daring smirk at her companion. His hand presses against the tree, the other gripping his knee as he catches his breath. Messy hair sticks out of random places on his head reminding her of the days where she would sneak into his room to scare him awake.

"No way! I...was totally...here first!"

"You wish-oof!" She reaches out to punch him on the arm, wholly miscalculating how physically exhausting that motion would be far too late. She trips over her two feet and gets a face full of dirt.

Twin pair of green eyes sparkle, one painted with confusion and the other in shock. A beat of silence passes by before a high dosage of mirth rescinds any traces of shock.

Laughter erupts from the two phantoms for a good minute before both lay side by side below the willow. Their chests rise and fall in a steady rhythm as the last of their giggles die away.

Another moment of silence passes by. Birds chirp melodiously in wake of a new day. Wind rustles through the willow's branches. Sunlight filters through the leaves creating a dazzling sight of morning stars.

A gleeful smile crosses her lips as her eyes gleam at the sight. It reminds her of confetti. With more sparkling qualities and much, much more magnificent. She turns her body sideways and faces her almost-twin, finding the same expression on his face.

Years of being his cousin has taught Ani how to catch little instances of hidden emotions — of which he was the master. An inkling of that familiar sadness etches onto his smile. She knows this expression well. It would appear every time she returned from one of her long voyages across the world. Sharing jaw-dropping tales of her adventures, exploring different lands as a _wandering spirit._ Danny had laughed so hard at the title, she couldn't believe he even possessed any ounce of melancholy. She realized then that she was free to do whatever she liked. He was not.

She frowns and opens her mouth to speak when he catches her eye. Any hint of doubt in her mind washes away as he sits up and rests a hand behind his neck, grinning wildly. The messy hair doesn't help. Typical Danny.

"Wanna go get some ice cream?" His eyes flash, knowing all too well about her love for desserts. How dare he distract her with sweets. For breakfast no less.

Ani can't help but nod herself dizzy. She leaps into the air, ready to bolt to the nearest supermarket. The triple chocolate delight flavour begs for her embrace once more. Tucker had brought it over when Danny was hosting a massive horror movie marathon. The boy was devastated to find all the empty cartons next morning; Ani was bedridden for the whole day. _Pure coincidence_ , she had chirped out. _Totally worth it_ , she told herself over and over again.

"Race you the-" Danny's hair ruffles even more in the wind left behind from Ani's abrupt departure. He chuckles and speeds towards her in a mad dash. Ghostly echoes of their laughter dance across the atmosphere in a trail of fresh, cold breeze.

* * *

This is a nod to Happyleif's oneshot series: Shots in the Dark. In particular Ch. 22 Wanderer, which I absolutely adore, and where the name Ani is derived, with quite a clever and funny reasoning. I encourage you to read it to find out hehe. In fact, all her stories are masterfully crafted, definitely highly recommended.

In other news, hope you enjoyed! Thanks for reading. :)


	13. Strictly Business

Nothing personal.

* * *

 _ **Strictly Business**_

...

Vlad Masters was a man of impressive demeanour. Charismatic and charming and a way with words that never failed to lure his audience in and ensnare them with his intellect. The man knew this well and further demonstrated such knowledge by flaunting this particular attribute of his character whenever he had the chance.

The young man had emerged and rose to wealth and fame with such finesse and speed that many called him a true God of entrepreneurship, drooling at his seemingly impossible growth in businesses over a short span of time.

Many doubted his abilities and sought out any and all information from his past, skeptical of his methods. They were never heard from again or, perhaps, simply forgotten.

Most importantly, many feared him. The billionaire took a perverse delight at such a thought.

It had been five years since the man had left the hospital sporting this new character, or perhaps an old character he had yet to reveal until now.

Vlad was not one to shy away from success, nor was he humble with his riches. The man himself was intimidating and such was his mansion, which, was much more appropriately dubbed a castle. It had been built from scratch on a large patch of land which he bought with as much ease as a middle class citizen would a can of coke.

It was here that we find the man conducting his most recent affairs with a potential client.

The moon hung low in the clear evening sky, drifting past the crystalline floor to ceiling windows of the castle's grand living room. A gold trimmed mantle housing a burning hearth filled the room with amber hues and warmth.

The room was a picture of pristine perfection save for a chandelier sitting in ruined pieces, its crystals shattered across the exotic rug. Refracted luminescence spotted the walls prancing along with the flickering flames as they danced across the room.

The soft thuds of footsteps led Vlad Masters back to his spot on the plush leather sofa. He spared a glance at the small table upon which perched two ceramic mugs filled with dark liquid; only one had been touched, though not by his own hands.

In the soft firelight, the bitter liquid looked no different than that that oozed from the body resting under the once majestic ceiling ornament.

Vlad sighed. He wasn't a fan of coffee anyway.


	14. Looking for Answers

If you didn't know it didn't matter, right?

* * *

"What did I do?"

"Oh, honey..."

"What. Did. I. Do?"

"He...you...it doesn't matter. It'll be fine. It'll be oka—"

"No, this is not okay. This is _far_ from okay."

"Danny, please-"

"Just answer the question!"

"It's not yo—"

" _What did I do?_ "

"You didn't do anything. That...that wasn't you, sweetie. "

"Don't. Don't do this. Not now."

"It wasn't you. "

"I don't care!"

"You had no control!"

"Stop saying that! You know as well as I do that I had something do with this!"

" _It wasn't your fault._ "

"That's not the point! Where's everybody? Why is half the town in ruins? Where's Jazz and Dad a-and w-why am I—why is there—"

"Don't worry about that now alright dear? Let's go home and get you cleaned u—"

"Just _tell me. Please._ "

"We'll figure it out later, sweetie, let's go home."

"...I did something bad didn't I? Something really, really bad."

"..."

"Wh-what happened?"

"It's nothing we can't fix, sweetie. It'll be fine. It'll be okay. We'll be fine."

* * *

Just a short practice in dialogue.  
Thank you for reading! Reviews are always welcomed!


	15. Rosethorn

There's a demon on the loose, and she's got her sights set on a couple of very interesting creatures.  
 **Warning:** Graphic descriptions of body horror/gore.

* * *

 _ **Rosethorn  
**_

 _ **...**_

A black robe trails far behind a curvy feminine figure, infusing itself into the ground like a waterfall of darkness. Dark crimson roses litter the smokey fabric, seemingly moving on its own volition as the dress sways to the beat of the lady's precise and practiced movements sauntering across the bleak room. Her hips sashay with a grace that would put every model out of business in a blink of an eye. Her eyes glow with a light so pure it betrays her wicked soul. A crown of deadly flora sit atop a head of silver locks tainted with a red that reeks of copper.

They were blood blossoms, known to ward off evil spirits—yet, somehow, she still lives.

She walks past her grand maple two poster bed, adorned with shimmering satin curtains, towards the vanity mirror sitting a few paces away. It's her favourite piece of furniture.

Sparkling silver surrounds the clear glass surface, sitting atop a smooth table lined with various vials and bottles of questionable liquids. She sits on the plush chair and crosses her legs; a slit reveals dark unblemished skin that would've made the coldest of men drool like a puppy.

She glances at her reflection with an unamused look and picks up her favourite shade of lipstick, a shade of black indistinguishable from the shadows. She applies it skillfully, replacing blood red lips with ebony. The corner of her lip twitches into a devilish smile as she idly wipes off a stray drop of blood on her chin. She savours the iron taste on her fingers and hums contently.

They call her Rosethorn—beautiful as the flower itself with the malicious sting of its deadly thorns.

Ghosts feared her; humans praised her.

She's well aware of her influence over humans. After all, the human eye can only see so much. They deemed her a goddess, Aphrodite they had called her. How childish and immature, she had thought. Although, she didn't mind as they seem to crawl desperately towards her like sheep in hopes to fulfill their lustful dreams. They were the easiest souls to garner. Weak as they were, it was a satisfying dose of energy.

Despite her malevolent means, she's every bit as gorgeous as the word allows. That's what anyone who has ever escaped her grasp would say. Aphrodite would've envied such a beauty of grim darkness.

Another glimpse of her reflection reveals the white of bone poking through her torn visage. Melted skin drips from her face, ripped pupils drip with a gruesome liquid creating twin tracks of red down her cheeks. She frowns and her eyes pulse with a power reverting the image back to her smooth, dark skin and plush lips.

Humans may be ignorant, but ghosts are a different matter. Her mask may work on most living creatures but it takes a great deal of effort to keep the charade amongst the undead.

Regardless, she derives a great pleasure in watching them tremble as she would lean forward, revelling at their writhing agony when she approaches with her deadly aura accentuated by the blood blossoms. One final breath of pure black mist and she claims their souls, or what was left of them, as one of hers.

Each time she collects, a new rose is added to her never ending dress. Although, over time, they would fade, leaving behind a dress that grows heavier with each disappearing imprint, weighing down on the demon. The more souls she collected, the quicker they disappeared, the heavier her dress.

It was a burden that hadn't seemed difficult at first until she became too greedy.

And now, ghosts had become a less frequent source for her, a shame since they provided a far greater amount of energy than humans.

She sighs, it was time to go hunting once more. After all, there were tales of halfas floating around the infinite realms. A legend of human-ghost hybrids, with a strength that grossly over-powered most every other being. Conveniently, they were located in the most recent hotspot for ghostly activity. She shivers with excitement at the power she could acquire.

Perhaps she should pay Amity Park a visit.

* * *

So, this was the first Danny Phantom OC I ever created since joining the fandom. I always had a fascination with blood blossoms and figured why not create a character out of that? And so, Rosethorn came to be. She was born of a prompt writing session I participated in with some friends more than a year ago. (Where has the time gone?!)

Although these oneshots are being uploaded now, they are of an earlier time when I was just beginning to explore fanfic/creative writing in general. It's strange and exciting to see how far I've come in writing, I can't wait to see what the future entails. Onwards and onwards we go!

As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts! While I don't always reply to reviews—which I should be doing, haha—I really do appreciate them! Much thanks for your kind words and support and I hope these fragments and stories have been enjoyable!


	16. Stitches

A practice in dialogue.

* * *

 _ **Stitches**_

 ** _..._**

"Gah! Ease up a bit will ya? _Ouch!_ "

"Hey, I warned you! You think stitches are some kind of spa treatment?"

"Doesn't mean...I can't...compla- _HCK_...owowow."

"Sorry...Just hold steady, okay? It's almost done."

"Easy for you to say."

"Stay _still._ "

"Fi-..fine."

"You _would_ be stubborn to the end, huh?"

"Shut up, jerk."

"Yea, well I'm the jerk who's saving your life. You're welcome."

"Whatever."

"Not even a thanks? Gee, maybe I should have let you bleed to death."

"Maybe I was just trying to meet you halfway."

.

.

.

"That was uncalled for."

"...Sorry."

"You need sleep."

"You're one to talk."

"Okay, so we're both getting negative hours of shut eye and stink like a sewer made love to a swamp."

"Gross."

"We both need sleep...and like five showers each."

"Yea...a shower sounds nice. Maybe even a nice, hot bubble bath."

"You're gonna have to use at least eight bars of soap, unless you wanna swim in all that _Gray_ water."

"Oh, _shove off._ "

* * *

Kudos if you can guess who's who. c: Hope you enjoyed, and as always thanks for reading!


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